Chapter 16 Nyree
I was running low on cash but still wanted to see her.
Shooting her a quick text, I waited with bated breath for her reply. Wanna link at my place and watch a movie?
Soon as I sent it, I wished I could unsend it.
Now she was gonna see me for the broke nigga I was.
Before I had the chance to keep doubting myself though, she wrote back. Sure… what we watching?
Now I was reprimanding myself again. “Chill, bruh. You already got her. You good.”
I looked around my apartment with fresh eyes and cringed a little. It wasn't bad—I kept it clean—but it wasn't impressive. One-bedroom, furniture that was secondhand except for my bed and the TV. My photography gear was the only thing I'd spent real money on. Everything else was functional at best.
I had about two hours before Asia would arrive. Just enough time to make the place look somewhat presentable. I grabbed the pile of laundry off my couch and shoved it in the closet, then hit the kitchen to wash the few dishes in the sink. I changed my sheets—just in case—and took a quick shower.
As I got dressed, I caught myself in the mirror, wondering what Asia saw when she looked at me. Whatever it was, it must be something good. The way that woman looked at me sometimes made me feel ten feet tall. Like I could do anything.
My phone pinged with a text from her: Be there in 30. Want me to bring anything?
Just yourself, I wrote back, then added a smirk emoji.
While waiting, I found myself scrolling through my phone and somehow ended up on a jewelry website.
I wasn't even sure how I got there, but suddenly I was looking at rings.
Engagement rings. What the fuck? We'd only been together for a month.
But there I was, checking prices, styles, looking at diamonds versus other stones.
I quickly closed the browser, shaking my head at myself. This woman had me so sprung I was looking at rings already? That wasn't me. I'd never even considered marriage before. Not once in my thirty-eight years.
But with Asia... I could see it. I could see everything—the house, the kids, the dog, the whole picture-perfect life. It scared the shit out of me how much I wanted it, how clearly I could envision it.
The buzz of my intercom snapped me back to reality. I pressed the button to let her in, then waited by the door, suddenly nervous. Which was ridiculous because we'd been seeing each other almost daily for weeks.
When I opened the door, she stood there in jeans and a simple top, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, laptop bag slung over her shoulder and a small box in her hand. Even dressed casually, she took my breath away.
"Hey you," she said, leaning in for a kiss that lingered just enough to make my dick jump.
"Hey yourself," I replied, stepping back to let her in. My eyes dropped to the laptop bag and box. "What's all this? I thought we were watching a movie."
She gave me a smile that was part excited, part nervous. "We are. But I have something to show you first."
"Alright, mysterious woman." I gestured toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable."
She set the box down on my coffee table and pulled out her laptop. "So, remember our conversation at the park? About your photography business?"
I nodded, suddenly wary. I didn't love being reminded of all the ways I wasn't established yet.
"Well," she continued, opening her laptop and typing something, "I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how talented you are and how you just need the right platform."
She turned the screen toward me, and I froze.
On the screen was a sleek, professional website with "Supreme Clientele Photography" emblazoned across the top in an elegant font.
My photos—the best ones I'd posted on Instagram—were arranged in a portfolio gallery.
There were sections for wedding photography, portraits, events, even a blog section and an about page with a professional bio.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Asia's eyes were bright with excitement. "It's your website. I stayed up all night building it. All you have to do is pay the hosting fee to get it started. I set it up so you can take payments through the site too."
I couldn't speak. My throat felt tight, and to my horror, I felt moisture gathering in the corner of my eye.
"And this," she continued, opening the small box to reveal business cards with the same elegant logo and my contact information. "Supreme Clientele Photography. I remembered you mentioning Ghostface was your favorite rapper."
I picked up one of the cards, feeling its weight between my fingers. The design was perfect—professional but with just enough edge to stand out. My name. My business.
"I don't know what to say." And I truly didn't. No one had ever done anything like this for me. Ever. People in my life had supported me in words—my mom telling me I had talent, my boys hyping me up when I got a good gig—but no one had ever put in actual work to help me succeed.
"Do you like it?" Asia asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice. "If you want to change anything, we can. It's all customizable."
I found my voice. "Asia, this is... this is crazy. I can't even..."
I scrolled through the site, taking in all the details she incorporated.
"Here," she said, showing me where to input my payment information to activate the hosting. "Once you pay the fee, the site is live and we can connect it to your social media accounts."
Without hesitation, I entered my debit card information and paid the fee.
It wasn't small, but in that moment, I would have paid triple.
As soon as the confirmation came through, Asia showed me how to connect the site to my Instagram and other social platforms, then connect my bank so payments could be sent to me.
"We should also get you set up with a business email," she said, already typing. "Something professional that matches your domain."
I watched her work, stunned by what she'd done. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, setting up integrations and adjusting settings with an expertise that reminded me she did this for a living.
"I don't even have a business license yet," I said, the reality of my situation creeping back in despite my excitement.
She looked up from the screen. "We can go to the small business center and—"
Before she could finish, I was moving. I couldn't contain it anymore—this overwhelming feeling surging through me. My lips found hers, cutting off her words mid-sentence. I kissed her with everything I had, all the gratitude and amazement for what she had done.
She made a small sound of surprise, nearly dropping her laptop. I pulled back just long enough to close the laptop and set it aside, along with the box of business cards. Then I was kissing her again, deeper this time, my hand sliding around to cradle the back of her neck.
She responded, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as I lowered her onto the couch. I shifted my weight over her, careful not to crush her, one hand braced beside her head while the other traced the curve of her waist.
Our kisses grew more urgent, the building tension threatening to boil over.
I trailed my lips from her mouth to her jaw, then down her neck.
When I found the pulse point just below her ear, she let out a moan that shot straight through me, igniting every nerve ending in my body.
I grabbed one of her hands and pulled it downward so she could grasp me and let her know what she was doing to me.
Suddenly, her hands were on my chest, pushing me back. Her eyes flew open, wide and dark with desire but also uncertainty.
"Asia..." My voice was rough, barely recognizable to my own ears. "I want you."